Olicity Drabbles
by Milanovic
Summary: While I love Olicity and their development on the show I cannot help the scenes my mind secretly conjures up for them. Let's call this an Olicity Wishlist? Just some scenes/moments/dialogues I envision our favourite couple having sometime in the future. Rated T for now, may have to change it to M later… stay tuned.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Unfortunately, I don't own anything except for an overly active imagination.**

* * *

It was different. Not better, not worse. Just … different. The way he'd imagined it – well, he'd imagined himself having a bit more suave than this. He'd thought it would happen after a particularly grueling mission. One, or both of them, likely hurt or injured. It was the most probable scenario, seeing as how often their missions ended _exactly like that_. For years they'd been fighting the attraction, but they both knew they could only hold out so long. Sooner or later _something _had to give and he knew in his heart that something would be him. He was a strong man, stronger than most, but even he had his limits. And the pretending had become unbearably hard. So yeah, he'd known he was going to succumb any day now. In fact, he wanted it, _welcomed _it even, because the slow burn had lost its appeal a long time ago. But still. He was Oliver Queen. No, scratch that, he was the Green Arrow. He always thought he'd have more … um … finesse.

Ironically, it happened on a mission-free night. They made a point out of having one a month, at least. One night to pretend they were a normal group of friends meeting up under normal circumstances. There was wine. There was dancing. Laughter. Normalcy. He loved their nights off, loved the time spent with the two people that knew him best. Most of all, he loved that _they _loved spending time with _him_. What he'd done to deserve it, deserve them, he'd never know, but he would be eternally grateful for it. Often, his sister and her boyfriend joined them. With Thea around Roy was mostly tolerable. Or maybe Oliver was tolerable having _her _around. Thea insisted he was. Diggle hadn't ever thought otherwise. Roy, wisely, kept his mouth shut. Tommy … well, Tommy hadn't had the chance to get to known her, but Oliver was sure Tommy, too, would have adored her if he had. She had restored his humanity, something he'd lost somewhere on the island. Something Tommy had understood, but hadn't really been able to reconcile. Not until it was too late anyway. Especially then had he leaned on her, grieving his best friend's death. And she'd been there through it all. She'd welcomed him back with open arms, after she'd _dragged _him back with slightly more hostile hands that is, even after he'd abandoned her for five months.

But she refused to take any of the credit. She insisted it was him. That he was _good_. Somewhere along the line he'd actually started to believe her. Her beguiling blue eyes and all her beautiful quirks had done him in. Ultimately, the very same things set him off that night. She was having fun with his sister, her blue eyes bright with happiness and a healthy blush coloring her cheeks. His girls, an odd pairing perhaps, but the best of friends ever since his self-imposed exile to the island, had just finished some ridiculous dance routine to an even more ridiculous song and were holding onto each other, doubled over in laughter. Diggle and Roy were hooting and hollering, cheering them on as always, and Oliver stood to the side, content watching the people he cared most about in the world, and Roy, enjoy themselves. But then she'd looked at him over his sister's shoulder, twinkling eyes and all, and he was just done for. And it was different. Not better, not worse. Just … different.

He'd stalked over to her; marched straight across the floor of Verdant, not stopping until they were so close he could feel her breathing. He wasn't sure what happened to Thea, who had been standing so close, until someone told him afterwards. As observant as Oliver normally was, the only thing that existed then was the two of them, teetering on the edge of their self-restraint. She'd smiled at him. Reassuringly, _knowingly_, and her eyes shone with amusement. Carefully, and with a telling tremor, he threaded his hand through her hair, pulling her even closer. His free hand characteristically came to rest on her elbow. He wasn't even sure who moved first, but he leaned in and she tilted her head, or maybe it was the other way around, and then, _finally_, he was kissing her. There were no injuries or near fatalities. He wasn't the Arrow and she wasn't his Girl Wednesday. Or, well, she was, but mostly she was just a girl in a bar and he was just a guy in a bar. Normalcy, for once. So yes, it was different. And really, different was better. _Oh-so-much better_.

Now, he sits beside her, _his wife_, listening to a recount of that very night, the night that changed everything for the both of them. Thea and Diggle are up on stage taking turns embarrassing him in front of some of Starling City's finest. There is laughter at his expense and the maid of honor and the best man are clearly enjoying themselves _way _too much, but Oliver can't bring himself to care. _He is happy_. So unbelievably happy that deep down he's afraid it won't last. Sometimes the fear is so stifling that he can't breathe. Between their first-ever-kiss and their first kiss as husband and wife a lot has happened. There have been injuries and near-fatalities. He is the Arrow and she is his Girl Wednesday, and it hasn't exactly been easy. He doesn't know if it ever will be and that's something they both still struggle with at times.

Thea raises her glass and winks. Diggle smiles and says something about the mystery of life and love and puzzle pieces coming together. Roy, wisely, keeps his mouth shut. In his mind, Oliver pictures Tommy somewhere in the crowd, enjoying his umpteenth glass of champagne and clapping louder than anybody else.

"To the happy couple," the room cheers.

"To my brother _and _my sister," Thea adds.

"To Oliver and Felicity Queen," says Diggle.

"To mommy and daddy," concludes a pretty girl with pretty blonde curls and pretty blue eyes wearing a pretty green dress.

No, it wasn't what he'd imagined at all, but he wouldn't change a damn thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi everyone! First of all, I want to say thank you to everyone who took the time to read, press the respective follow and favorite buttons, and to those who reviewed. It means a lot, really. Last chapter I wrote Oliver's reflections on the first kiss and then ended up foreshadowing not only a wedding, but a child as well (trust me, I ****_did not _****see that coming), so I've decided to work my way up to an alike companion piece where Felicity reflects on their first kiss at a different time, which will ultimately be the final chapter. To make the sudden leap from kiss to married bliss in chapter one less dramatic, everything in between will cover Olicity in various stages of their relationship, which is different from my original idea for this drabble story, but hey, and literally ****_everything _****is fair game. I've somewhat figured out how to structure it ****_and _****I've got a list of prompts, but should there be anything ****_you _****would like to see here then feel free to get in touch with me. If I feel like I can do your prompts justice I will be more than happy to oblige. As of now, I have no idea how long this is actually going to be, in part that's because I have no idea when or how often inspiration will strike and then there's you, the readers, whom I hope will tell me when this story has started to run its course. I'll wrap things up now and let you get to the next chapter, but, once again, thank you. The response has been overwhelming. And really, feel free to hit me up with commentary or just to have a chat. Would love to hear from you. None of this is beta'd so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.**

******- Mila.**

**Oh, and disclaimer: I still ****don't own anything.**

* * *

"Oliver?"

Oliver looked up from the file he'd been reading and an automatic smile spread across his face when he found Felicity in the doorway. "Felicity."

Felicity smiled back at him, a slow brush creeping up her cheeks. She never understood how just hearing Oliver say her name could affect her so much. One word, four syllables, and yet the man was able to convey so much when he said it – so many emotions, so many _different _emotions.

"Am I interrupting?"

He quickly shook his head, eager for the distraction. Sure, the sales reports he'd been reading were important, but they were also dreadfully boring. Especially considering the large quantity that he now had to read after postponing it a little too long.

Felicity slowly entered his office, glancing at his desk. "Are you sure? Because if that stack of paper is what I think it is, you've got quite a bit of work cut out for you, Oliver Queen."

"Felicity –" Oliver groaned when the blonde came to a sudden stop in the middle of his office.

"Seriously, Oliver, I should probably just go. You have a lot of work to do and Isabel does _not _need another reason to hate me."

Oliver pushed his chair slightly away from his desk and batted his eyes at her, trying not to grin when he saw her resolve start to crumble.

She stubbornly crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No, nope, not going to work. You can't just – When did you even learn to do that? So unfair," she pouted.

"Felicity, just c'mere. _Please_."

"I really shouldn't, but …"

"But you will?" He asked her, his smile widening to a full-blown grin when Felicity dropped her arms and petulantly closed the difference between then. Oliver wasted no time pulling her into his lap as soon as she was close enough. Felicity collapsed against his chest with a gasp and Oliver quickly locked her in place with his arms, clasping his hands on top of her stomach, before she could recover.

"Oliver!"

Oliver buried his face in her neck and pressed a kiss against her shoulder. "Sorry."

She huffed, but by now the fight had completely gone out of her. "No, you're not. God, I'm such a pushover."

Oliver nuzzled the column of her neck and continued to press sweet kisses against her soft skin. Felicity sighed and instinctively leaned into his touch. "Oliver, we can't do this here."

"Mmm."

"Oliver," she admonished, a little more breathlessly than she liked. "In case you've forgotten, your office is made of _glass_. Anyone can see. And by anyone I mean Isabel."

They'd only been together for a couple of months, but they'd been dancing around each other for years. Very few QC employees were surprised when Oliver and Felicity suddenly showed up to work together, holding hands and sharing a sweet kiss before stepping into their respective offices. Everybody was happy for them. Well, everybody except for Isabel Rochev who still had a personal vendetta against Felicity. She'd even tried to get her fired on numerous occasions, but luckily didn't have that much sway in the company. Not to mention that Oliver was firmly in Felicity's corner and nobody thwarted Oliver Queen.

"Isabel isn't even here," Oliver countered, peppering kisses against his girlfriend's jaw.

"Oh?"

"She got called in by the London office. She'll be gone at least a week."

Felicity considered the happy news for a second, a slightly prolonged second now that Oliver's hand was on her exposed thigh, but nevertheless wiggled out of his reach. "That still doesn't mean we should give everybody a peepshow."

"Fine," he sighed. "Sit with me a little while longer? I promise to behave."

Felicity settled happily against his chest. Oliver brushed his hands down her arms and linked their fingers in her lap. The new couple loved these quiet moments. They were maybe far and few between, but they took great care to make sure they always had some time to simply be together. As the minutes passed, Felicity could practically feel the tension seeping out of Oliver and she smiled to herself, happy her diligent boyfriend was finally relaxing, even if only fleetingly.

"I can help you go over the rest of the reports if you want," she offered. "You look tired."

"I am tired, but no, you should be with Diggle at Verdant tonight. I'll probably be late and I don't want to leave him without the back-up."

"Are you sure?"

Oliver leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you though."

"Okay. I should probably get going soon then. I still need to go home and change."

"And eat."

"And eat," she promised. "Don't worry, I am not going to skip any more meals. Your tongue-lashing the other day was very effective."

Oliver bit back a smile when Felicity's eyes widened as she mentally replayed what she'd just said. She groaned and buried her face in his chest. "Sometimes I really shouldn't say words."

"You're adorable."

"You're bossy," she countered playfully.

"I'm – yes, okay, fine, I'm bossy."

Felicity laughed. "It's okay though. I still like you."

Oliver laughed with her and the sight made Felicity's heart flutter with joy. It was rare to see him so carefree. Oliver hardly ever laughed, which was a shame really, because he had such a beautiful, warm, full laugh. Looking at him now, it hit her just how head over heels she really was for the man and how lucky she was to be with him like this: in a happy bubble with the _real_ Oliver.

"I really, _really_ like you, Oliver Queen," she said softly, suddenly overcome with emotion. She wasn't ready to tell him she loved him yet, even though she did. She'd fallen in love with him somewhere in between bullet-ridden laptops and shady syringes, and the feeling had only intensified over the years. There wasn't a bone in her body that doubted Oliver's feelings for her; they both just needed some time to adjust to their new dynamic. But Oliver wasn't very familiar with affection and, Felicity knew, felt especially undeserving of her, which was utterly ridiculous, _of course_, so she made it a point to tell him how important he was to her in other words.

He almost looked shy, a word she'd never imagined to be at all associable with Oliver Queen, and it just made her love him more. She grasped his chin and pulled his face down to hers until their noses were touching. "Silly, silly man," she smiled. "You make me happy."

Oliver blinked slowly, stunned by her words and the complete honesty in her voice and in her eyes. With a shake of his head he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and crushed her to him. God, he was a lucky bastard.

"Felicity," his voice was rough and low, and laced with emotion. "I – I…"

Felicity beamed up at him. "Me too, Oliver. Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys! I had hoped to be able to put this up a little earlier, but exams and deadlines got in the way. I've got next to nothing on my plate after next Tuesday so hopefully I can kick up the pace a bit starting then. I hope to get a holiday related piece out in time, but the days leading up to Christmas are always a lot more hectic than you'd expect. I'll do my best though, and if you've got anything you'd particularly like to see for that drabble (or have another prompt in mind), please let me know. Oh, and thank you to everyone that followed, favorited and reviewed! Now for the disclaimer: I still don't own anything except for any mistakes since none of this is beta'd.**

**PS. Recap, I'm writing from Oliver's reflection of the first kiss up until Felicity's reflection of that same event and everything in between is fair game, but I'm not writing the moments in a chronological, or even particular, order. **

* * *

"Oliver?"

Oliver looked over his shoulder to find Diggle entering his bedroom, a contrite expression on his face.

"No," Oliver replied briskly. "No, Diggle. _No._ I promised Felicity no interruptions this time. I don't care what it is, okay? Just get Roy to do it – whatever it is. We're not doing this again. I promised her. I _owe it _to her to get it right this time."

Diggle blinked once, slowly, surprised to see his composed employer-_slash_-friend pulling a Felicity. He barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Calm down, man. I was just messing with you. Roy and I have your six tonight. It'll go down without a glitch, I promise."

Oliver, relieved, laughed shakily. "Jesus, Digg"

"How many is this anyway? The third –"

"_Fifth_. This our fifth attempt at a first date," he grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the mirror.

He and Felicity hadn't had the best of luck lately. Ever since Oliver had kissed her in Verdant they'd repeatedly tried to have a normal evening out together, but every single time something had come up as they were heading out or interrupted them halfway through. Their first date, Oliver had taken Felicity out for drinks in a little café not far from Queen Consolidated. A week had passed since Oliver had last kissed Felicity and quite honestly he'd been tired of having to wait any longer to do it again. So he'd sprung the impromptu date on her. It was easily the best date Oliver had ever been on until Felicity's bag had started blaring incessantly. Both her phone and her trusted tablet where linked to the computers in the foundry, and the search she'd been running for days had finally produced some results. The Arrow had been needed and that was that.

They tried again a couple of days later. Felicity had suggested going to a downtown art show. One of her favorite artists, Oliver kept forgetting the name, but the one whose pictures littered the teal-colored walls of her apartment, had an expose nearby and the way Felicity's eyes had sparkled, Oliver would have agreed to just about anything. This time they hadn't even made it through the door before they'd received a phone call that Roy was in jail – a big misunderstanding, fortunately, but the kid had called Felicity to bail him out and so Oliver and Felicity had spent their evening at the Starling City precinct. Their third attempt Oliver had taken Felicity to the ballet. After the first hour passed, Oliver thought their bad luck had passed, that they would finally make it through their date without interruptions. He'd been sorely mistaken. At first he'd ignored the buzzing phone in his pocket, but when, after ten minutes of dodging calls and messages, Felicity's phone had lit up with an incoming call as well, the pair caved and quietly exited the venue, rushing over to QC where a rabid Isabel had been waiting for them.

After that, they'd decided on a visit to the recently reopened aquarium. For the life of him Oliver couldn't remember exactly how they'd ended up at the aquarium, of all places, but it was one of those things just so _Felicity _that he had no choice but to go along with it. And surprisingly he'd really enjoyed himself; Felicity was her usual chatty, bubbly self and regaled him with information about the exhibits and trivia about the all the different types of animals. She'd taken him to see the penguins and the exotic fish tanks twice, and had snuggled into his side every time a shark had swam by. Everything had gone really, really well, but then one of the other visitors had spotted them and started somewhat of a riot, yelling at Oliver for his family's involvement in the destruction of the Glades. It had been a couple of years since, and Oliver and his family had fought hard to redeem the Queen name, but the losses of that night could never be repaid. Oliver knew that, and understood it even, but the altercation had left him and Felicity feeling awful. Oliver had taken his date home and had taken his frustrations out on the punching bag in the foundry. The next morning Felicity had come in, bandaged his scraped up hands and they'd rescheduled. _Again_.

Tonight, now a full month since Oliver had last kissed Felicity, he wasn't taking any chances. He'd given Roy very detailed instructions of what he was and, more importantly, _was not _to do tonight, and then he'd made Diggle swear to stay with Roy to make sure he didn't mess up. And Isabel was out on a date herself so she wouldn't be a problem. Oliver knew this because he'd hired the poor guy that was taking her out tonight and had paid him extra to keep her phone out of her hands at all times. He figured if nobody bothered Isabel, _she _wouldn't bother him or Felicity either. If it worked, it would be the best money he'd ever spent. But to be absolutely sure they wouldn't be disturbed this time around Oliver had put Felicity under a strict technology ban. He was only bringing his phone because, after all the instructing and planning he'd done the past couple of days, he was absolutely certain that _if _it rang tonight, it would really be a life or death situation.

Diggle's low chuckle brought Oliver back to the present. "Let's hope the fifth time is the charm then. But you'd better get going if you don't want to be late. Where are you taking her any way?"

Oliver nodded and shrugged into his suit jacket, quickly pocketing his phone and his wallet. "Just out to dinner and a movie this time," he said, smiling secretively. He clapped Diggle on the shoulder in passing and headed out to his car with a silly grin on his face.

They really were going out for dinner and a movie, but Oliver had rented out Felicity's favorite restaurant as well as the movie theatre for tonight. He really wasn't kidding when he said he wanted no interruptions on this date. Felicity would undoubtedly have a few, okay plenty, unhappy choice words for him when she learned what he'd done, hating it whenever Oliver spent a significant amount of money on her, but hopefully he could soften her up with champagne and an award-winning white truffle chocolate cake. And if that still didn't work … well, he would just kiss her quiet.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everybody, sorry this took so long! I haven't been around a computer in days, hence the delay. But that means that this week I'll actually be good with updates seeing as how the next fluffy drabble is scheduled for Tuesday already. I really want to have it posted in time for the holidays. After that I'll try to get more of a rhythm writing these. Again, I want to thank each and every one of you that has taken the time to review, follow or favorite – I really, really appreciate it. Oh, and, disclaimer, I still don't own anything. Happy reading!**

* * *

Tonight's mission hadn't been their smoothest operation ever. It was supposed to be easy; create a distraction, sneak away to plug a flash drive in a computer, download some incriminating data, and return to the party – in and out. But it hadn't exactly gone down like that. The threesome, Felicity, Oliver and Diggle, was infiltrating an Eastern European drug ring, a group of particularly vile mobsters that they'd had their eyes on for a while, and after months of serious schmoozing Oliver had finally snagged an invitation to one of their events. Oliver played the role of the naïve, spoiled little billionaire; Felicity accompanied him as his flavor-of-the-month, and Diggle hovered as security detail. Oliver wore his playboy smile and Felicity wore a red, bandeau mini-dress that was two sizes too small and just barely covered her butt.

When she'd stepped out of the bathroom at the foundry dressed in the slinky outfit Oliver had thrown a temper tantrum of epic proportions seeing how little skin the 'dress' covered. He had flat out refused to let Felicity go out like that, threatening to forgo the entire mission even, but eventually they managed a compromise by adding stockings to the outfit. Mindful of their cover, Diggle had to be the one to step out on the way over to purchase a set, but not without getting a hefty raise out of the ordeal. Felicity had quickly shimmied into them in the backseat of the car and it had taken most of the drive to get over her embarrassment.

The dress, for all its faults, worked wonders at the party. As soon as Felicity set foot through the door all eyes were on her, much to Oliver's obvious chagrin. He stared down every man that so much as looked her way and never let her stray too far from his side, his hand possessively on her hip to keep _her_ close and everybody else far away. But then Oliver got invited to a game of poker, the break they'd been hoping for, and Felicity was left to her own devices as Diggle dutifully trailed behind his employer. As Oliver proceeded to lose more money than she probably made in a year, further convincing the perps of his absolute ignorance, Felicity moved in on the gang's second-in-command; a tall, beefy guy with a cocky leer that made her skin crawl. It only took a few deliberate touches here and there and some well-timed, high-pitched giggles to charm him, and after a blatant dig at Oliver's sexual prowess, which was received with a chuckle and a growl through her little earpiece, the guy was putty in her hands. More importantly, he was more than eager to take her to the back room, granting Felicity easy access to the part of the compound that housed the computers.

As soon as they'd passed security, he acted on her advances and pushed Felicity up against the wall, but unbeknownst to him, Felicity had sabotaged the lock on the door so that Diggle could follow her in and swoop to her rescue. He burst through the door and had the guy stretched out on the floor within seconds. After reassuring Oliver that she was okay, Felicity and Diggle snuck into the computer room where Felicity quickly began downloading the information they needed on the flash drive she'd hidden in her cleavage; earning herself another laugh from Diggle as she uncovered it.

She was just about finished covering her tracks when the shouting and, shortly after, the shooting began in the next room. They hadn't exactly accounted for a rival gang to crash and, in what was nothing more than an excessive pissing contest amongst mobsters, start shooting up the place. Oliver managed to make his way over to where Felicity and Diggle were unscathed, but not without being seen by one of the gang members. The SCPD showing up put the team in an even more precarious position, as they now had to get away from two different, but equally hostile, entities. There was no way for them to get to the car without being made so they'd had to make a run for it, which is why Felicity was so winded now, after running to safety across town and across however-many acres of the Queen property.

Felicity tiredly sagged against the wall of Oliver's bedroom. "That was close," she puffed, still somewhat out of breath.

Oliver grunted in agreement and sat down on the edge of his bed, sulkily staring in the direction of her legs. Felicity frowned and followed his gaze down to her dirtied dress and torn stockings. Her shoes were covered in mud and her hair was undoubtedly a wind-blown mess. Not the most elegant end to a mission. She pulled down the zipper at her side and let the dress pool at her feet. Oliver sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Felicity, mussed up but beautiful, standing in his bedroom dressed in nothing but her underwear, stockings and high heels. Kicking off said heels, Felicity traipsed over to the closet and pulled out one of Oliver's shirts and a pair of sweats to change into. Her stockings discarded and freshly dressed in a white shirt, Felicity turned around just in time to see Oliver ripping up the dress she'd left lying on the floor. Oliver let the scraps of fabric limply fall back down onto the floor, smiling somewhat sheepishly at Felicity.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'll buy you a new dress. A _different_ dress, not that one."

"I don't care about the dress." She'd felt uncomfortable in it all night and didn't think she would ever wear it again of her own volition. "Oliver?"

When he didn't reply, Felicity walked over to her boyfriend and threw her hands over his shoulders. "Look, I know you didn't like the dress, but I –" she began.

Oliver chuckled darkly and pulled Felicity flush against his chest. "Oh no, I liked it just fine. A little too much even."

"Skimpy and red, hmm? That's good to know."

Oliver leaned in and brushed his lips against hers once, twice, before shrugging his shoulders. "Red, pink, blue, orange… I don't need the pretty packaging. I just need you, Felicity," he said earnestly.

"You have me. I'm yours," she smiled, punctuating the words with a sweet, lingering kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Happy holidays everyone! I hope you're all enjoying yourselves, whether you're celebrating anything or not. I'm so happy I finished this on time. As my gift to you, I will be uploading not one, but ****_two _****chapters – yay! Both Felicity and Oliver demanded my attention tonight so I got a little carried away. In keeping with the generally shorter drabble format I decided to cut this piece in half rather than post it in its entirety. It made more sense to split it into two parts anyway seeing as how the first half I wrote was distinctly Felicity and the second half much more Oliver-centric. So yeah, the first chapter is Felicity's POV of Christmas Eve with Oliver, the second chapter is a continuation from Oliver's POV. As for the disclaimer: I don't own anything Arrow related; I just spend way too much time thinking about it. Enjoy! **

* * *

"Felicity, we said no presents this year," Oliver said in way of greeting her, opening the front door wider and stepping to the side to let her in from the cold.

Felicity reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek in passing. "Hello to you too, boyfriend. And we said no presents last year, too, but that didn't stop _a certain someone_ from buying me a bracelet that cost more than _my car_," she said pointedly. "And don't for a second think I believe you actually obeyed the no-present rule this year."

She put the box she'd carried in down on the coffee table and let Oliver help her out of her coat, shivering in delight when he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. As Oliver left to put her coat away and undoubtedly to grab her a glass of wine from the kitchen, Felicity flopped down on the couch and took in the fully decorated living room. She'd been surprised when she first learned that Oliver was a big holiday fanatic like herself. The apartment was decorated with warm, neutral colors, a comfortable and modest design that suited Oliver well. It always made Felicity inexplicably happy to see some of her things providing arbitrary splashes of color all over the otherwise sleek apartment: her purple umbrella by the front door, her yellow scarf wrapped around the wooden bannister, the occasional item of clothing in the hamper, her hot pink toothbrush on the bathroom counter. But for weeks, the apartment had been covered in bright red, green, blue, white, silver and golden hues of Oliver's own volition. The care and thought put into the decorations emanated an almost childlike glee that really only surfaced during the holidays. It was an altogether different, so endearing, side to her enigmatic boyfriend that Felicity loved to experience, even though it also saddened her to see just how much life had stripped him of his carelessness and wonder.

Felicity had learned this about him years ago, well before she and Oliver became a couple, and had always loved indulging him this time of year; picking out Christmas trees well before the official beginning of the season, spending hours – _days _– putting up ornaments all around the office, Verdant, the foundry, both of their apartments _and_ the Queen mansion, planning the annual Queen Consolidated and Queen-family Christmas parties, which became impossibly more extravagant every year it seemed, anything to keep that rare, inhibited smile on his face. After they became a couple, Oliver made it a priority to learn about her holiday traditions and became even better versed in everything-Hanukkah than Felicity herself, she often thought. The entire Queen family had embraced the Hanukkah celebrations; Moira had bought a beautiful wrought silver menorah, similar to the one proudly displayed on Oliver's fireplace mantel, Thea had fashioned a gift-exchange game using a dreidel, and Raisa had asked Felicity to teach her how to make latkes. And they always celebrated both, even when the holidays didn't officially overlap.

They made their own traditions, too. Christmas Eve was just for the two of them. Take-out, hot chocolate with whipped cream and little marshmallows, and presents – even if they explicitly agreed on no presents. Christmas was spent with the other Queens over at the mansion. They had brunch together, played board games and watched Christmas movies, went out for walks in the snow around the estate before dinner, exchanged gifts after dinner and ended the night with some not-so-great caroling. On Boxing Day, Felicity and Oliver went over to Diggle's place where Felicity and Carly would spend all day in the kitchen, cooking and gossiping, while their men entertained AJ. An only child, and virtually alone after the deaths of her parents, Felicity reveled in the attention, familiarity and warmth of the holidays these past couple of years.

Oliver returned then, a glass of red wine in one hand and an envelope in the other. Sitting down next to her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and put the envelope in her lap. Felicity sipped her wine and eyed her present suspiciously. "If there's one thing I've learned being around you Queens, it's that the smallest gifts are usually the most expensive. And this is really, _really _small, Oliver."

Oliver laughed. "Open it and find out."

She ripped through the white paper with a sparkly-polished nail and retrieved two plane tickets from the envelope. Two plane tickets to Paris – Paris, _France _as in oh my god the Eiffel Tower – for the week leading up to her birthday.

"Oh," she gasped.

"I know, I know. I'm not allowed to spend that much money on you, but I just wanted to do something extra nice for you. We've had a rough year, _you_'ve had a rough year, and you deserve a break. And you've always wanted to go to Europe so I thought that –"

"Oliver," Felicity interrupted. "You are babbling."

"I think it might be contagious."

Felicity smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss. "I love my gift, thank you. You shouldn't have, but I know that never stops you."

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. There's just one little problem, Oliver."

Oliver tensed at her words, a concerned frown marring his beautiful face.

"I have work that week," she teased.

"Something tells me your boss will happily give you the time off," Oliver shot back.

"Hmm … I don't know. He's kind of a hard-ass."

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really. But if he gives me any trouble I'll go over his head to his mother. She loves me."

"I happen to have it on authority that your boss loves you, too."

Felicity smiled beautifully. "I'm quite fond of him as well, hard-ass or not."

Oliver finished his wine and set his empty glass on the coffee table. "Can I open my present now?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And here is part two. Thank you everyone that reviewed, followed and favorited by the way. Much appreciated. Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.**

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_Oliver finished his wine and set his empty glass on the coffee table. "Can I open my present now?"_

"Oliver, my present isn't – it's not even a present, really, but it _is _something you asked for. Oh, that didn't make sense at all did it? It's not that big of a deal, not compared to what you got me anyway, and I didn't spend any money on it at all so don't … _ugh_, just open it."

"Hey," Oliver lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. "I'm sure I'll love it, whatever it is."

He really didn't know why Felicity was so worried. He always loved her presents, his entire family did. They were always personal, and so thoughtful and unique. Truly some of the best presents he'd ever gotten were the ones given to him by Felicity. They made a pact to forgo presents on Christmas, but the words were empty air. Oliver knew Felicity would get him something for Christmas, just as she knew he would buy her something too. He'd really only reprimanded her, when she walked in, because of the size of his present. The box, a simple, square box giftwrapped in candy cane paper and tied together with a black bow, was so big that she had been unable to grab her house key and let herself in. Instead, she'd awkwardly rang the buzzer with her elbow, having to lift the box high above her head to do so.

Quickly, and swiftly, Oliver removed the bow, letting the satin ribbon fall down to the floor, and the wrapping paper, and curiously removed the lid from the box. It was filled to the rim with what, at first glance, appeared to be random items that, Oliver realized after further inspection, all belonged to Felicity. The first item in the box was the double picture frame she kept on her nightstand. In it, a picture of the two of them at a charity event and a picture of her parents from one of their anniversaries. The picture frame was stacked on a pair of sweaters that, in turn, lay on a handful of books. Oliver retrieved the two sweaters from the box first, the burgundy one he was particularly partial to because it did wonderful things to her complexion, and her old MIT sweatshirt. Then came her copy of _The Odyssey_, which he'd given to her a few years back after she admitted never having read it, was in there, followed by a couple of other ones that Oliver recognized as her favorites. Next was the little makeup pouch that she normally carried around in her handbag. It was filled with a selection of her brightly colored nail polishes and lipsticks. Her tablet was in there too, as well as some other tech-gear that he could neither name nor understand.

At the bottom of the box lay loose a couple of random knick-knacks from around her apartment and some kept memorabilia from their more noteworthy dates, and an unmarked envelope tucked between two ceramic mugs – her Arrow mug, which she claimed she _had _to buy when they found an Arrow fan-site that sold tacky, all-green merchandise, and the Queen Consolidated mug he kept over at her place. He thumbed the envelope and raised his eyes to Felicity who looked even more nervous now as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Go on," she timidly encouraged, nudging his elbow. Curiously, Oliver wasted no time opening the envelope. In it, he found Felicity's apartment lease renewal. The date in the upper left-hand corner said the papers were due today so Oliver didn't understand why he was holding them unsigned.

"Wait," he said aloud. _Unsigned? Unsigned. Unsigned! _"Felicity, does this mean what I think it means?"

"You're exceptionally hard to shop for, Oliver Queen. I mean you practically have everything already, because you're a Queen, you're a billionaire. You don't actually _need _other people to buy you things, because you can go out and get them yourself. And it's – it's just really unfair when you're trying to buy a present for your annoyingly perfect, billionaire boyfriend for their birthday or Christmas or Valent – no, actually Valentine's Day is pretty easy actually. The point is that you always, _always_, know what to get me no matter the occasion and I never know what to get you and you're never any help, you never ask for anything." Felicity took a deep breath and shook her head, a soft smile playing at her lips. "Sorry. You asked me for something this year and I _may have _freaked out a little bit when you did and then I kind of avoided the topic altogether, but you know me; I process things a little differently than the average person. To be fair, you did totally catch me off guard and we were in the middle of a mission, which was just awful timing on your part. And you say _I _have bad brain-to-mouth filter, humph."

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted her impatiently. "You've been on a five minute tangent about moving in with me without giving me a concrete answer one way or another. You have _no _brain-to-mouth filter."

"Well, me and my nonexistent filter want nothing more than to move in with you. If you'll still have us, _um_, me, that is."

Oliver couldn't have stopped the grin from spilling over his face if he tried and hoisted her off the couch and over his shoulder. Felicity squeaked as she was suddenly lifted into the air without warning, but then laughed. "Oliver, what are you doing?"

Oliver slowly rubbed his hand up one of her legs, his fingers languidly caressing the muscles of her calf as he carried her up the stairs. "I am going to give you a tour of _our _house. Starting with _our _bedroom."

Felicity giggled when Oliver set her back down on top of his feet, walking her backwards towards the room from the landing.

"We've still got a lot to talk about, you know. I have to pack up my apartment and we'll have to figure out what to do with my furniture. I want to keep some things, but most of it can go to goodwill. And we are going to sit down and discuss your obsession with the color brown. I love this place, really I do, but there's only so much beige or tan that's socially acceptable no matter what your mother says."

"Don't mention my mother in the bedroom. It is kind of a mood killer."

"_Our _bedroom," Felicity corrected, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"_Our _bedroom," Oliver agreed with a smile. "And we'll talk, okay? But not now, not here, _later_."

"Oh, and we need to talk bills," Felicity went on. "Moving in with you and mooching off you are two entirely different things. I'm not naïve enough to think you actually pay rent or have a mortgage on this place, but you _must _pay bills, which means that _I _get to help pay the bills. This is non-negotiable, Oliver."

"_Felicity_. Please shut up so I can kiss you."

Felicity happily obliged and hummed appreciatively when Oliver's mouth slanted over hers.

"Merry Christmas, Oliver," she murmured against his lips.

"Happy Hanukkah, Felicity."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, so much for finding a rhythm, eh? My Internet router broke almost a week ago and replacing it took a while – the thing didn't get here until late yesterday afternoon. But I'm back now with another drabble. Thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited and/or followed. It makes me very happy that you're enjoying reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. Oh, and happy New Year, of course. May 2014 be the best year yet!**

**- Mila (who, ****_disclaimer_****, still doesn't own anything Arrow-related)**

**P.S. I off-handedly mention Felicity's birthday in this chapter, but since we don't actually know when her birthday is (or maybe we do and I just didn't do enough research) I used Emily Bett Rickards' birthday, which is July 24****th****.**

* * *

Felicity was a mess, a jittery, blubbering mess. She was still clutching her phone tightly to her chest, her knuckles had long turned white from her grip and her now-clammy fingers left sticky marks on the touchscreen. Oliver would likely barge in any second now, worried because she'd left so suddenly, and she couldn't let him find her like this. _Thank God for waterproof mascara. _Carefully, her legs feeling a little like jelly, she rose and smoothed down her dress, looking at herself in the mirror, a frown on her face. Ever since becoming Oliver Queen's girlfriend, designers had been jumping all over themselves to get her to wear one of their dresses to the events that she now regularly attended. For tonight she'd gone with this French designer that had styled her for a gala earlier in the year. She'd worn a floor-length gown then, but at Thea's insistence had chosen a much shorter dress this time around. The cap sleeve bandage dress fit her like a glove, accentuating the right curves and edges, and modestly ended one or two inches above the knee, perfect for the annual Queen Consolidated fundraiser that was taking place tonight, _right now_, not ten feet from the restroom she was hiding in. Felicity had picked this particular dress because of the pretty embellishment studs that wrapped around, and covered, her stomach and the small of her back, liking how the rows of gold and silver contrasted against the otherwise dark fabric. Paired with a pair of golden drop earrings and the black and gold sling-backs she borrowed from Thea her outfit was complete. She'd gone out and bought some black nail polish to match, a color missing from her extensive collection, but a special kind with dusted sparkles that was a lot less bland and much more to her liking.

The finishing touch to the ensemble was the ring she'd gotten this morning, a gift from Oliver for their third anniversary, which just so happened to also be today (of all days). Though technically they weren't married, Felicity always gave Oliver more traditional presents on their anniversaries; a journal on their paper anniversary the first year, new Egyptian cotton bedding for their second anniversary, just after she'd moved in with him, and this year she'd gotten him a leather briefcase embroidered with his initials on the lid, while Oliver generally splurged and lavished her with gifts with scary price tags. But they were always personal. Like her ring, beautifully set with three gemstones. He hadn't offered her any explanation when he pushed the ring onto her finger, but Felicity knew the stones would not have been chosen arbitrarily so she'd done some research. There was a jade, set in a cushion cut, the gemstone itself symbolizing third anniversaries and the green an obvious running-gag between the pair, an oval ruby, her birthstone that as a gem also represented love, and a pear cut rainbow moonstone, the slightly more puzzling, but nevertheless precious to her, gemstone of hope. Looking at the ring now brought a whole new batch of tears to her eyes. She blinked back the tears and wiped at her eyes, removing the last remnants of the waterworks from her face. She then re-applied her lipstick and retrieved some emergency bobby pins from her clutch to fasten in her hair, keeping some stray locks pulled back.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, a faraway look in her eyes, she mentally replayed her earlier phone conversation.

Pregnant. She, Felicity Meghan Smoak, was pregnant and up until twenty minutes ago she hadn't had a clue. She'd been a little sore the past couple of weeks, tired more easily, and was quickly irritable. But she'd figured that was only normal, living the life she did, working around the clock. Even almost fainting when walking down the stairs to the foundry hadn't worried her too much. She'd caught herself, after all, but Oliver had sent her straight to the doctor's office. Her new doctor, _his _doctor, not the doctor she'd frequented for most of her adult life. No, that doctor had been dismissed by an out of sorts Oliver Queen. 'Subpar', her boyfriend had called the elderly man. Subpar for not stitching up a slash on her arm no bigger than a paper cut. Okay, a _little_ bigger than a paper cut, but not by much. The new doctor, a somewhat stern, scary, middle-aged woman, had gone above and beyond for Felicity, ordering all sorts of unnecessary scans and tests to appease the Queens. Up to par service apparently included a rush order on Felicity's blood work and a personal call from the doctor herself, at 7:15 PM, to let her know that she was pregnant. Or 'with child', as the doctor had said. _Congratulations_.

She was happy – _elated_ – to be having a baby with Oliver. They often talked about having children, but always in the abstract. They wanted two, a boy and a girl preferably, but healthy would do. They fantasized about their future together, the two of them, their, undoubtedly rambunctious, children, whom Felicity secretly hoped would resemble Oliver most, and their dog. Oliver, apparently, had always wanted a dog. But they both wanted to wait until their lives had slowed down significantly. They didn't want to raise a child, let alone two, in constant danger. And Felicity wasn't sure Oliver would ever truly give up being the Arrow so she'd started to prepare herself for the very real possibility that her future, _this_ _version_ of her future, would never come into fruition. The antibiotics she'd been on some time ago had somewhat of a different idea and Felicity berated herself for not reading the leaflet and worrying more about side effects. Now that she was pregnant, now that it was actually happening, Felicity couldn't help but want this baby more than anything she'd ever wanted in all her life. But as happy as she was, she was also scared and nervous: nervous for herself, for Oliver, and for their baby. This was not going to be easy for either one of them. And how was she going to tell Oliver? And when? Should she do it now, _here_? Could she even?

As if on cue, there was a quick rap on the door and Oliver's concerned voice came from behind it. "Felicity?"

"Mm?" She replied, testing her voice before she spoke. "I'll be right out, Oliver."

"You've been in there for some time. Is everything all right? Are you okay?"

"Yup," she chirped, wincing at how forced she sounded. "One second."

Felicity reached for the hem of her skirt and tried to pull it further down, sighing in frustration when the fabric wouldn't give. Her once-perfect dress was suddenly too short, definitely too tight, and what on earth had possessed her to choose a dress that drew so much attention to her stomach? _Idiot, idiot, idiot_!

An increasingly frustrated Oliver knocked on the door again. "Felicity." _Oops. _Not a question this time. She really needed to get back out there, _before _Oliver broke down the door. Not expecting him to be standing so close to the doorway, Felicity smacked straight into Oliver's chest exiting the bathroom and stumbled back a little. Oliver was quick to grab her by the shoulders to steady her.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" He frowned, his eyes cutting to where her hand was suddenly splayed over her abdomen. Reflexively, she seemed to have placed it there to soften the impact of their collision. "Is your stomach bothering you?"

Felicity smiled softly and shook her head. "No, my stomach is not bothering me."

"Then what is it, Felicity? You've been crying."

When she didn't answer him Oliver sighed. "Felicity, you're making me nervous."

"I know! I know, okay? It's just…" she trailed off, visibly chagrining Oliver even further.

_Get a grip, Smoak. _

Felicity let her clutch fall down at her feet, ignoring Oliver's surprise at the unceremonious gesture, and grabbed his hands, pressing them gently against her still-flat stomach.

"The doctor called. It's nothing bad, Oliver. I'm _fine_," she rushed to add. "My blood work came back and the reason why I've been so tired, and grumpy, lately is – well, I'm pregnant." She said it softly, not quite meeting Oliver's inquisitive eyes, but with a little smile pulling at her lips.

"What?" Oliver's fingers flexed and tensed under her palms.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated, louder this time, but looking down still.

Oliver slowly pulled one hand free from her grip and cupped her cheek, tilting her head so that she was forced to look at him. He looked calm, his expression controlled and worryingly blank, but Felicity, who knew him better than anybody else, knew that on the inside Oliver was anything but calm.

She also knew that he knew she wasn't kidding, but he still asked. "You're … pregnant?"

She nodded, twining her fingers with his and squeezing slightly. "Yes."

Oliver swallowed thickly. "We're having a baby. I'm going to be a dad."

"Yes. Are you – what are you thinking? Oliver?"

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her hair and whispering reverently in her ear. "I'm thinking I love you, _the both of you_."

Felicity laughed, relieved, the tension seeping out of her body at his admission. Tears had once again begun to roll down her face, of their own accord, and Felicity mumbled something about rampant pregnancy hormones against Oliver's shoulder. Pulling back slightly, Oliver raised their hands between their bodies, lifting her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles before moving his mouth over her ring, brushing his lips against the smooth plane of the glimmering moonstone. "Thank you," he whispered, his breath fanning her skin.

Hope. She understood now.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey all! I tried my hand at some Olicity smut and it just wasn't happening today (I actually cringed reading it over). I'm going to give it another shot sometime soon, but if it turns out the same I think I'll probably forgo my 'M' and continue with the fluff I've got going on (****_if it ain't broke, don't fix it_****). I'll change the rating of the story accordingly if I do. Something different, I need some serious help naming Baby Girl Queen, so please throw some suggestions my way! Thanks again to everybody that followed, favorited and reviewed – I really, really appreciate all of you. I don't think I've replied to all the reviews of last chapter so I'll get right to that after posting. Happy reading.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything (unfortunately).**

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**[TQ]:** Ollie, have you seen the news today?

**[OQ]:** No. Why? Is everything okay?

**[TQ]:** You might want to turn on the TV or pick up a magazine or something.

**[TQ]:** And buy some flowers while you're at it.

**[TQ]:** Maybe jewelry.

**[TQ]:** Or that robot thing Felicity was going on about last week.

**[TQ]:** Definitely the robot.

**[TQ]: **Oliver Jonas Queen! You text me back this very second or so help me God.

**[OQ]:** Or so-help-you-God what? Speedy, I'm in a meeting. Can we do this later?

**[OQ]:** And why am I buying Felicity a robot?

**[TQ]: **Because there is a woman on TV _right now_ telling all of Starling City that you are sleeping with her.

[**TQ]:** Which, _FYI_, implies that you are cheating on your _pregnant girlfriend_.

**[TQ]:** Which is bad, Oliver. Bad, bad,_ BAD_!

**[TQ]: **Also, Felicity turned her phone off about an hour ago.

"_What_?" Oliver bolted upright, causing his chair to tip over and tumble on the floor with a loud thud.

"Oliver?" Isabel frowned disapprovingly. "What is going on?"

He shook his head. "I – I'm terribly sorry, but something's come up. I have to go." And just like that he was out the door, forgoing the elevator and dashing up three flights of stairs to his office. When he saw the temp, Davy or Daniel or something, sitting behind Felicity's desk his heart sank.

"Where is Felicity?" He demanded, his angry voice carrying loudly through the hallway.

The boy, whatever his name was, looked up from the computer screen and swallowed audibly. "Mr. Queen! Um, Ms. Smoak went home for the day, Sir."

"Why? _When_?"

Daniel-Davy nervously pulled at his collar. "About three hours ago, Sir. She, um, wasn't feeling well, she said. Sir."

Oliver turned on his heel and stalked to the stairway. "Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day," he barked over his shoulder. "And do not answer the phones."

On the ride down, Oliver quickly shot a message to Diggle, who went to bring the car around, and tried to call Felicity on her cell, at the house, at the Mansion, and at Verdant, but all phones were disconnected. He ran a hand over the back of his head and sighed. Oliver felt – well, he didn't really know how he felt. All he knew was that he needed to find Felicity.

"Have you heard from Felicity today?" Oliver asked, sliding into car.

"Yeah. I drove her home. She was a little out of sorts," Diggle said vaguely, pulling into traffic.

"What'd she say?"

Diggle met Oliver's gaze in the rearview mirror and shot him a look. "Oliver," he warned.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, I know. You keep her secrets. It's just – I have no idea what's going on here, Digg. I haven't seen or heard the news. I've been in back-to-back meetings all day and I would have still been in a meeting if Thea hadn't texted me. I went to check on Felicity as soon as I heard, but by then she was long gone."

"This girl …"

"Who is it even? Thea didn't say."

"Ava Monroe."

Oliver cursed and Diggle nodded. "Yeah. Bad."

"I slept with her over a decade ago! I didn't even know she still lived in Starling. What is she saying?"

"She says that you two ran into each other at a party five months ago. You asked for her number, to catch up, and one thing led to another. Supposedly, you've been hooking up with her ever since you went for coffee shortly after the party."

"Felicity is seven months pregnant," Oliver groaned. "Damn it. The timing –"

"It's not like she has proof, Oliver." Diggle interrupted. "This _will _go away eventually. It always does, doesn't it? It sucks, because our girl is pregnant and hormonal, and she gets really defensive when people talk trash about you, but it'll be fine."

"It's more than that, Diggle. This girl, Ava, I – she – and Laurel," he sighed. "I've done it before."

"Felicity knows your past, Oliver. She may not like it, and she'd have torn you a new one had she known you back then, but that's not you anymore. They may give this Ava chick an extra five minutes of airtime, because there's more history there, but _there is no story_. Even the vultures will have to acknowledge that sooner or later. You and Felicity are good, man. That girl loves you more than anything. Just, you know, be extra nice to her and let her yell, and rant, and break the good china if she wants to."

Oliver smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Digg."

"No problem. ETA is five minutes. Hang in there."

He found her in their bed, laying flat on her back and tracing patterns on her ever-growing belly. The pillows were bunched up around her head, so Oliver couldn't quite see her face, but at least she wasn't crying.

"Felicity?" He called out carefully.

"Hey, you're home! How's the mistress?" Felicity propped up on her elbows and tilted her head towards him, her expression frustratingly blank.

"Felicity, you know I –"

"Please, Oliver." Felicity huffed. "I know you're not cheating on me. I'd actually be half impressed if you were. Between the hours you put in at QC and as the Arrow, and never mind the time you spend catering to your very demanding, _very_ pregnant girlfriend, I don't see where you'd even find the time to have an affair. So, you know, that would really be sort of impressive. I mean we're talking some serious stamina here, Queen. But then I've read that your stamina is _pretty _great."

Stepping further into the room, Oliver noticed the slightest upturn of Felicity's brightly colored lips and the mirth that sparkled in her eyes. "You're … amused?"

She snorted in reply and shook her head once.

"No, I am furious. My ire just isn't directed at _you_. Ms. Ava Monroe on the other hand? Well, lets just say that her accounts have mysteriously been depleted and some not so flattering pictures of the former Miss Universe have recently surfaced, pictures that I think will particularly interest our new DA. Oh, and she's been put on the No Fly List so, you know, _Interpol_. What? I donated all of the money to charity and the pictures came with the name _and _the coordinates of the hideout location of the friendly looking drug lord she was canoodling with. Flagging her may have been a bit of a stretch, but what if there actually is a terrorist out there called Ava Monroe? It could be a nom de plume. Or she could actually _be _a terrorist. Who knows? She _is_ a liar. It's just a precaution. It's – it's _patriotic_, really." Felicity shrugged. "Oh, and also, if you'd really been cheating on me, John would have killed you by now. You're obviously still alive."

Oliver laughed and lay down on the bed next to her, deftly kicking off his shoes in the process and pressing a soft kiss atop Felicity's stomach before kissing her temple. "True. Thank you for believing in me."

Felicity smiled warmly and cupped Oliver's cheek. "I know you, Oliver Queen. And you're a good man. Nobody will ever be able to convince me otherwise."

Oliver closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "Thea told me to buy you a robot."

"Well, your sister is a smart woman. Hey, Oliver?"

"Mm?"

"Did we put Ava on our list?"

Oliver's eyes flew open. "Um. Wait, let me check." He reached over and grabbed the folded sheet of paper from the nightstand. "Huh. Looks like we did."

"_So not happening._ In fact, we are going to go over the list again and cross off the names of all the girls you've been with. Our daughter will not be named after one of your conquests." Felicity frowned and wrinkled her nose in disdain. "And if we have to name our daughter Gertrude, then so be it."

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**REMINDER. Please hit me with some baby names! Thank you, thank you, thank you. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys, I had some unexpected free time on my hands so I decided to go ahead and write the next drabble. Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews and wonderful name suggestions the last chapter. I won't be introducing "Baby Girl Queen" for a couple more chapters so you've got some time to suggest some more names if you happen to think of any; they're always welcome. Many thanks to everybody that favorited and followed as well; I'm really glad to see that people like my writing enough to hit those buttons. This one is a little different than the chapters I've written so far, but hopefully you'll enjoy it all the same. I had a lot of fun figuring this one out. If there's anything you want to see, please don't hesitate to send prompts my way. Happy reading! **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Arrow. **

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He never tires of hearing Felicity say his name.

"Oliver, stop." Her voice is light with happiness and the reprimand is only half-hearted.

"Oliver, we talked about this. Boundaries." He does it on purpose, ignoring her, because he enjoys the timbre of her voice when she grows impatient with him.

"Oliver." Ah, there it is. He is quick to grab her wrists when she attempts to push away from him. He's going to have to step up his game.

"Oliver, we should stop," she says. But she never stops kissing him back, which he secretly loves.

"Ol– Oliver." He also loves how responsive she is to him.

His hands are wandering now, up and down the planes of her body. Up, down, up, down, lingering where she's most sensitive. "Mmm… Oliver."

He walks them back, aiming for the couch, but accidentally walking them straight into one of the desks. Her eyes fly open on impact, the bright blue now dark with desire, and she challenges him. She always challenges him. "Oliver, Diggle will be back any second and he won't be happy with us."

He knows, but Oliver simply is not finished with her yet. His lips find her earlobe and his teeth tease and tug the little nub. He has learned how to distract her. A hum emanates from the back of her throat and Oliver can feel her body vibrate against his own. She's breathless now, her voice barely audible as she whispers his name. "Oliver."

"Oliver, really, we – _Oh_."

He lifts her up effortlessly, his hands gliding over the backs of her jean-clad thighs to her back where they come to rest, fingers dipping below the hem of her shirt. Felicity throws her hands over his shoulders and curls her fingers into the fabric of his collar, imperceptibly pulling him in closer. "Damn it, Oliver."

He chuckles, nipping at her bottom lip and stepping into her legs. _God, she's beautiful_, he thinks. _Just like this_. Dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, her feet bare and absently moving against his calf in time with his lips.

"Oliver," she keens. "Please."

He continues his teasing, brushing his lips across hers ever so softly, adding very little pressure to his touch, and hopes he can make her say his name again. But she's learned a thing or two as well since they started dating. Especially how little self-restraint he has left when it comes to her. She wraps her legs around his middle and pulls until they're perfectly aligned and she's everywhere, all around him, and it's _so good_. He groans and she smiles triumphantly.

"Just so you know – I'm blaming you when Diggle comes back."

"Yeah, I think I'm okay with that."

His eyes lock with hers and for a split-second time stands still and the couple remains frozen in place; the air is thick with anticipation. Felicity licks her lips, drawing his attention to her mouth, her kiss-swollen lips and her smudged magenta lipstick, and somewhere inside Oliver a dam breaks. "Enough talking."

He pushes her back until she's flat on the desk, his mouth on hers in an almost bruising kiss. He never worries he might be hurting her, Felicity always gives as good as she gets. Always. Her hands are everywhere all at once, fingers scratching his scalp, squeezing his bicep, rubbing his chest and smoothing down his back. His hands are tangled in her hair to hold her in place. "Oliver."

When it becomes too much and all he wants is to unwrap her right here, _right now_, on a desk in the middle of the foundry, he pulls back and redirects his mouth to her forehead, exhaling harshly against her skin. Felicity is still wrapped around him, clutching him tightly against her as she, too, tries to catch her breath. "That was just – Oliver, wow."

Oliver rests his head on her shoulder and nods, nuzzling the curve of her body.

"Oliver?" She asks, but he can't find his voice.

"Oliver? Did you hear that? Oliver, I think –"

"_Oliver_!" This time it's not his girlfriend saying his name in one of the million ways he's come to love, but a displeased Diggle coming down the stairs.

"Busted," Felicity giggles, dropping her legs and pushing them both upright. "Remember, your fault," she whispers as she hops down from the desk. She walks back to her station, wheeling her frenziedly displaced chair back in front of her computers.

"Bring me back anything useful, Digg?" She asks, attempting to go for casual.

Diggle crosses his arms in front of his chest and pointedly raises his eyebrows at her, making her blush and stumble over her words. "I'm – We're – I mean … Oliver?"

Her hopeful blue eyes land on him, but all Oliver does is shrug. "Sorry." _He's not._ "I've got nothing."

"Nice," Felicity huffs, deftly turning around in her chair. "Well, I told him, Digg, but he didn't listen to me. As usual."

"Hey, I listen."

"_When_ do you listen?"

"You hardly ever listen, man." Diggle agrees. "And I'm sure you put up a lot of resistance, Felicity. Look, guys, I've been waiting for this for a long time. A really, really, really, _really_ –"

Oliver and Felicity simultaneously snort and interrupt him. "We get it, Diggle."

"I'm just saying you guys took your sweet time figuring this out," Diggle waves his hand between them. "But just because I was rooting for you doesn't mean I want to see, um, _things_. You do know you have an entire mansion at your disposal, right? And a mansion sure beats a basement."

"We're taking it slow."

"Felicity is afraid of my mother."

Diggle whips his head back and forth between his two, now glaring at each other, friends and purses his lips together to stifle his smile. "Right."

Oliver sighs and buries his hands in his pockets. "We'll do better, Diggle. We just got a little carried away."

"Yeah. Sorry, John."

"Nah, we're good. I don't expect you two to – next time just give me a heads up, okay? I'll dawdle."

"Will do," Oliver promises.

The threesome exchanges smiles and Felicity lasts about five seconds before her fingers are itching to get busy. "So," she drawls. "Find out anything useful about our latest baddie?"

"Not that I could make sense of, but here. Have at it," he says, throwing her a flash drive. "I'm going to change. You two use my absence to kiss and make up."

"We're not –" Felicity starts, but then twists to look at Oliver. "I can move some things around so that we can have that lunch with your mother on Wednesday."

"I think slow might be overrated."

Felicity's gentle peal of laughter makes Oliver want to kiss her all over again, but instead he makes himself press a demure kiss to the crown of her head.

"Didn't Digg say to _kiss _and make up?"

"He won't be gone long enough. Later," he promises. "Let's get to work."

Hours later, when Oliver and Diggle have long resorted to some sparring to combat their boredom while Felicity diligently sifts through the new intel; she finally seems to have found something. Diggle uses the distraction to get the upper hand on Oliver and send him flying face first into the training mats. This time Oliver may actually have a bruise, but it's the last thing on his mind. Felicity is bouncing in her chair with excitement and the look in her eyes is enough to heal all of his wounds, old and new.

"I've got him, Oliver!"

He really does love it when she says his name.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey guys! Again, thank you so much for all of the reviews, follows and favorites. I feel so very privileged whenever I get a notification in my email. I've received a couple of prompts, which I've added to my to-write list and will definitely enjoy working on. Prompts are really always welcome so feel free to shoot me a message. I've got a little note regarding baby names, the last one, ****_I promise_****, but I've saved that for the end so that you can go ahead and read the next drabble first. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or any of the characters. **

* * *

"How's my baby doing?"

Thea, having just finished talking to her boyfriend and niece, plopped back down on the couch with a laugh. "Giving Roy a hard time, as usual."

Felicity laughed too, all the times that her daughter had painted her Uncle Roy's toenails hot pink coming to mind. "Oh no. What is it this time?"

"He said he had glitter in places where glitter shouldn't exist," Thea giggled. "He's going to give her a bath now and then they're going to watch a movie before bed. They'll call to say goodnight."

"He's an absolute saint for watching her tonight."

Thea waved her off. "Oh, please. He loves it. They've been practicing walking down the aisle all day, apparently."

Felicity smiled at the mental image; her little girl trotting up and down the halls of Queen Manor, wearing a look of absolute determination that rivalled her father's, and Roy dutifully in tow. "She's certainly got him wrapped around her little finger."

"Well, she _is _a Queen. We know how to handle our men."

At that, Felicity snorted. "Don't say ever that in front of Oliver, _ever_, please."

"After the aneurysm he had when you two found out you were having a girl? Yeah, I'll pass. I'll probably be leaving the country the day Oliver Queen finds out his daughter has sex."

"Thea!" Felicity threw a throw pillow at her almost-sister-in-law. "She's three years old."

Thea smirked and threw the pillow back at Felicity, hitting the blonde square in the face whereas Felicity had only managed to hit Thea in the shoulder. "You need to work on your aim, 'City. But fine, we shan't discuss your daughter's impending sex life anymore. Now that we're on the topic, though, have you finished packing for the honeymoon yet?"

"You have a one-track mind," Felicity admonished. "But yes, I've got everything. I mean I _think_ I do anyway. I wish Oliver would just tell me where he's taking me. '_Somewhere far, far away_' and '_You'll like it – no, you'll _love_ it'_ aren't exactly great clues to go on."

"_I _know where my brother is taking you. Want me to double check your suitcase?"

"He told you? I can't believe he told you. Now I'm officially the only one that doesn't know where I'm going. And it's _my _honeymoon!"

"Relax, Ollie's got it covered, trust me. You'll love it."

"So I've heard. Repeatedly," Felicity deadpanned.

"Want me to check your suitcase or not?"

"Fine. But I have veto power. Last time you had control over my wardrobe I –"

Thea reached over and clamped her hand over Felicity's mouth. "You promised you weren't going to bring that up again. Everybody makes mistakes, Felicity."

"But not everybody makes mistakes that leave their sister-in-laws practically naked at their company's Christmas mixer."

"Wardrobe malfunctions happen to the best of us. And you were the only one complaining about it, if I remember correctly."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a meticulously packed suitcase to wreck?"

Thea quickly dashed up the stairs and Felicity reached for her phone, shooting off a quick message to Roy and wondering if she was allowed to text Oliver the night before their wedding. Thea had a strict 'no fraternizing' rule, but they'd already reluctantly agreed to spend the night apart. Surely, she could sneak in a message while Thea was upstairs. Diggle was too afraid of Thea in wedding mode to tattle on them anyway.

**[FS]:** I miss you.

**[OQ]:** I miss you, too.

**[FS]:** We're so codependent.

**[OQ]: **Is that a bad thing?

**[FS]:** Probably. Not that I care.

**[OQ]: **I've wanted to text you all night, but I didn't want to get you in trouble with my sister. Is she behaving?

**[FS]:** Thea is a menace, but I'm having fun. How are you? How's Digg?

**[OQ]: **We're both fine. I'm just thinking about tomorrow.

**[FS]: **Having cold feet?

**[OQ]: **Never. You? Thinking about ditching me?

**[FS]:** Pfft. Not in this lifetime, Queen.

"This was on your bed."

Felicity yelped and dropped her phone in surprise. "God, Thea. What is with you Queens and sneaking up on poor, unsuspecting people? I keep telling Oliver, it's all fun and games until someone has a heart attack. What was on the bed?"

"I don't know. I'm assuming Oliver left it for you. Here."

Felicity frowned minutely, knowing for certain that Oliver hadn't left anything on their bed and wondering how the hell something could have gotten up there without her noticing, but quickly smoothed out her expression as she took the package from Thea. It looked innocent enough, wrapped in a pleasant bright yellow, but Felicity wasn't going to take any chances opening it with Thea so close by. "Would you mind grabbing us a new bottle of wine from the basement?"

"Sure thing. Red?"

"Please," Felicity nodded, watching Thea disappear around the corner and waiting until the door to the basement had shut behind her and the steady tattoo of her footsteps was out of hearing range. Felicity quickly tore through the paper, her confusion only growing when the signature striped packaging of Victoria's Secret was revealed underneath. Lifting the lid from the box she discovered a folded note on top of the gift tissue paper with her name written on it in an elegant script that was somehow vaguely familiar.

* * *

_Felicity, _

_I wish I could be there in person tomorrow, but I'll be there in spirit. And by spirit I mean that I'll be hiding somewhere high up in the trees to watch you (finally) make an honest man out of Ollie. I'm not entirely sure where this ranks on the scale of inappropriate gestures, in some cultures it is frowned upon to give lingerie to another woman when you've seen her soon-to-be-husband naked, but then I've cornered the market on inappropriate. That aside, I just hope you like it. Ollie seems partial to anything fuchsia on you so I thought I'd do you both a favor._

_Have a great honeymoon, _

_Sara._

_PS. Use your tech-magic to track me down when you're back in Starling. We need to have a girls' night_

* * *

Felicity shook her head in amusement and laughed quietly to herself, slipping the note into her pocket and away from Thea's prying eyes before delving further into the box and retrieving a beautiful pleated babydoll with an empire silhouette, triangle lace cups, thin spaghetti straps, and a satin bow around the waist.

"Oh," she gasped, playing with the silky fabric.

"Wow," Thea whistled, stepping into the living room. "Ollie chose well. He really does have a thing for you in fuchsia, doesn't he? Hey, what is your phone doing on the floor? You were texting with Oliver, weren't you! _Felicity. _Oh, I can't believe you two."

* * *

**A/N: Hi again! Hope y'all enjoyed the new chapter. I've narrowed things down to the three name that were suggested the most: Charlotte, Elizabeth and Grace. I've been playing with middle names, pairing them up, and I'd love to get some final feedback on them.**

**- Charlotte Dearden Queen**

**- Charlotte Grace Dearden Queen **

**- Grace Dearden Queen**

**- Elizabeth Dearden Queen**

**- Elizabeth Meghan Dearden Queen**

**As you can see, there's a bit of a pattern here. Both Moira and Thea share the names 'Dearden Queen'. I suspect that Dearden is Moira's maiden name and that she passed the name on to Thea, and I'd like to keep it in the family as a sort of tribute to both women. Along those lines I also thought that it might be nice to keep Felicity's middle name, Meghan, in the family. I've previously written that Felicity has lost both of her parents and maybe she and her mother also shared their middle name. The baby would then be named after both of her grandmothers in some way, an idea that I, personally, really like. However, I really only liked the pairing 'Elizabeth Meghan' and didn't think Meghan really worked with the other two names. And as you can see I kind of cheated with my Charlotte and Grace pairings. I really couldn't find middle names that I liked and I've always been partial to the pairing 'Charlotte Grace'. If you can think of a name that you like with either Charlotte or Grace then please let me know and I'll consider it. In any case, please let me know which one of these names you prefer so I can finally name this child, haha! Thank you in advance. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows, and all of your help with the baby name. It'll be revealed soon. I've started to write mostly wedding related drabbles so the next updates will likely still be wedding related. Next are the Oliver's proposal and the actual wedding (though not necessarily in that order). After that I'll go back to writing other, regular Olicity moments. Speaking of, I also want to write a couple of chapters where Oliver and Felicity struggle and have arguments. I've got a couple of ideas that I'm toying around with, but I'm also really interested in what you think they would struggle with so please hit me up with some suggestions! **

**This chapter is similar to the previous one, it's the night before the wedding, but this is a glimpse into Oliver's evening. I need to clarify, though, that Felicity does still have quite some text in this chapter despite not being physically present. To make it a little easier to follow along I've written those particular parts in italics. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Arrow or any of the characters. **

* * *

"I completely forgot I had these."

Oliver frowned in confusion and craned his neck to look at Diggle who returned from the kitchen thumbing a little stack of cue cards.

"Forgot you had what?" Oliver asked, taking a swig of his beer and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"Thea had Felicity answer some questions about you for this bridal shower game and she gave them to me to give back to you, but it completely slipped my mind. Sorry man." He handed the cards over to Oliver and sunk down next to him on the couch. "Thea picked out the ones that she thought you might want to have."

Oliver absentmindedly shuffled the cards in his hands. "That was nice of her."

"Well, let's see them then." Diggle took the cards back from Oliver and divided them into two stacks. "First question: What is Oliver's least favorite chore?" He laughed at Felicity's answer. "_Oliver would probably say that his least favorite chore is vacuuming, which, I guess, is true, but he never really does any chores until properly incentivized. And no, Thea, that does not mean that I bribe your brother with sexual favors. Actually, that might not be such a bad idea now that I think about it._" He shook his head. "Man, her filter is just as bad on paper as it is in person."

"Only Felicity," Oliver agreed, smiling indulgently. He found her babbling mostly adorable, even her Freudian slips and all of her unintentional innuendos – however ill timed they could be. "This just got a little more interesting. Second question?"

Digg nodded and read it out, snorting a little. "Does Oliver wear boxers or briefs? I don't know what's stranger, the fact that your sister would ask about your underwear or that I know the answer to this question. Felicity said: _Ha! Boxers, thank you very much_."

"Felicity hates briefs," Oliver explained. "The first time we – well, you know. Anyway, she, of course, had to tell me why she was so happy that I was wearing boxers instead of briefs and here we are, in her bedroom, and all I'm thinking about is her and she starts telling me about her ex-boyfriends and their unsatisfactory underwear preferences."

"You didn't cut her off?"

"Not for a good ten minutes. I was kind of waiting for her to come to her senses on her own." Oliver flipped through the cards and picked the next question. "Thea must've asked this question on purpose. How does Oliver take his coffee? Wait, she crossed something out. I don't know what this says."

Diggle plucked the card from Oliver's hands and squinted his eyes at the paper. "Almost tore the paper, too. It says: _Black, but preferably with a little honey and cinnamon_.But then she wrote down that this was a useless question and that she refused to answer it on principle."

"She's never going to let me live that down is she? The whole EA thing."

"Probably not, no. Next?"

"What is Oliver's dream car?"

Diggle doubled over in laughter, just barely avoiding spritzing Oliver with beer when he read Felicity's answer. "This girl, man. _I know you're going to give all of these to Oliver so I'm going to say his dream car is the Bat Mobile, really any of the Bat Mobiles, just to piss him off. He'll get it_."

"Did she just…?"

"Yes. Yes, she did." Diggle gloated.

Oliver rolled his eyes and reached for his phone to send his oh-so-hilarious fiancée a disapproving text message; knowing full well that Thea had confiscated her phone after their last exchange and that Felicity likely wouldn't even see the message until the next morning, but he really couldn't let the Bruce Wayne jab slide. "Just so you know, my real dream car is a '77 Aston Martin V8 Vantage."

"That's a good car. I'll happily drive you around in that baby."

"Good to know," Oliver deadpanned. "That kind of defeats the purpose of getting it though. Has Oliver ever been on TV? When and why? God, too many times to count."

"Yeah, and almost all of them bad."

Oliver nodded in silent agreement and shuddered a little remembering, flipping the card over to read the answer. "_The time he was on the news for peeing on a police officer was pretty memorable._"

"I forgot about that!" Diggle grinned. "Man, you were a total asshole back then."

Oliver swiftly jabbed him in the ribs, feigning a glare. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Moving on. Where was your first kiss? _At Verdant, Thea, you were there. You know this. Also, did you really think I would get this one wrong? This game is really weird_."

"Just so you know, Thea and I will be talking about that night in our speech tomorrow and we will tell everybody what a love-struck sap Oliver Queen actually is. Not that it's a big secret or anything, but you know," he shrugged. "It's fun talking smack about you."

"Thanks, Digg. I'm really glad I chose you to be my best man."

"I know. Hey, this is a good one. When would Oliver say he really fell in love with you? Here, you should read it."

Oliver cleared his throat. "_I really don't know. I don't think we've ever really talked about this either. I can tell you when Oliver first told me that he loved me, but since that wasn't the question I won't (and you don't get to ask me after – ask your brother if you really want to know). I don't want to assume, because this is really very personal so instead I'll tell you when I fell in love with Oliver. Often, I think that I've loved Oliver since our first meeting. You know the story, I think. He needed some help with his laptop right after he came back from the island and he was very … well, we were both pretty awkward during that whole exchange, but when he smiled at me I was done for – a goner. But loving someone and being __in love__ with someone are two completely different things. Not mutually exclusive, but different. Especially when someone is so easy to love like Oliver. The day I fell in love with Oliver was a particularly crappy day. I'd just completely had it with everything and I had no one to really share it with, nobody that would really understand. And Oliver somehow knew that I wasn't feeling well (he always knows) and he took a moment to come talk to me. "If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me," he said. And then he touched my shoulder, squeezing it briefly, and I just … I still don't really know what it was about that moment, but that's when I fell in love with Oliver. To this day, I don't think he knows how much I like it when he touches my shoulder (it always, always gives me butterflies because it reminds me of that moment) which is actually kind of funny because he does it very often._"

Diggle opened his mouth only to shut it again when Oliver bolted off the couch and cocked his head towards the front door, clutching the cue card to his chest. Instinctually, Diggle rose and grabbed his jacket off the chair. "Where are we going?"

"To the house. Call Roy and tell him to come bring me my baby."

"What? Why?"

Oliver smiled softly, glancing down at the note and running his finger over the ink. "Well, for one, I miss my girl – both of them. Secondly, I'll need Roy to distract Thea after I tell her what I really think about this whole pre-wedding separation thing and it's probably going to take the two of you to actually get her to leave, and I need her to leave because I plan on spending the night in bed with my fiancée. Most importantly, though, I need to tell Felicity about the moment I fell in love with her."

"It was the little gold cocktail dress wasn't it?" Diggle guessed, pocketing his keys and leading Oliver out of the apartment. "The one she wore during the Dodger case?"

Oliver laughed. "No, but damn did she look beautiful that night."

"It wasn't Barry Allen was it? Because that's not a good story, Oliver. You can't tell her you only figured out that you were in love with her when some other guy started showing an interest in her."

"It wasn't Barry Allen," Oliver replied, unable to keep the growl out of his voice at the mention of their Central City associate.

"Okay, so before that then, because you were obviously jealous of the kid."

"Diggle."

"What? Let me have my fun, Oliver. I spend an unhealthy amount of time with the two of you; odds are I was there when it happened. We've got a twenty-minute ride; let's see if I can guess before then. Was it … when she jumped out of an airplane for you? No, wait. It had to have been after Russia, because otherwise you wouldn't have slept with Isabel. Right? Right? **_Oliver!_**"


End file.
